


Echo

by randolhllee



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-27
Updated: 2014-10-27
Packaged: 2018-02-22 20:56:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 14,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2521496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/randolhllee/pseuds/randolhllee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Machine is on the cusp of bringing Samaritan down. Root is also reaching what she feels is the end, just as Shaw starts to think she might want a beginning. Angsty Root is angsty and Shaw responds like, well, Shaw. Title is from the song "Echo" by Jason Walker, inspiration for where Root is coming from emotionally. Rating is mostly for language and some innuendo. Trigger warning for discussion of/plans to commit suicide. Originally on FF.net.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This was originally posted on FF.net, but then I got this nifty account and wanted to share it again! This is semi-AU, since I started writing it around the time 4.01/4.02 aired. Shoot-centric, but contains some Finch and Reese as supporting characters. Angst and emotions abound. I would love to hear comments, and I hope you enjoy it!

Shaw ripped off her nametag and flung it against the wall, where it skittered unsatisfying into a corner behind the sofa. She strode across the apartment and into her bedroom, unzipping and stripping off her black dress as she went. She tossed it unceremoniously into the closet, where it landed next to the other three identical dresses she had worn over the past few weeks. The damn things were supposed to be dry-cleaned, although she hadn't realized that when she bought them, and damned if she was going to take them in the black mood she had inhabited since Samaritan came online. It had been more of a walk into the store, see an appropriate-looking dress, and buy five for that stupid cover job kind of thing. That meant she was down to one clean dress and exactly no patience.

 _Why do women even care about lipstick?_ She wondered angrily as she searched for more comfortable clothes.  _And how the hell am I supposed to know the difference between peach and coral?_ She threw on leggings and a loose t-shirt (black, of course—she didn't own much else) and stalked into the kitchen to viciously chop vegetables while pretending that the carrots were her clients' fingers.

She was just standing at the kitchen island eating her stir fry, too tense and angry to sit, when she heard buzzing from the next room.  _If that is Macy's…._ she mentally threatened the lives of every employee and customer while making her way to her purse ( _oh God, I carry a purse)._ She ripped the off-grid phone from its god-awful little pocket in that god-awful purse and looked at the unidentified number.

_Please be a number._

They hadn't had one since they realized that Samaritan had recruited that girl, the Root-alike. Shaw assumed that the Machine was keeping them even further off the grid as a result, but she still itched to fight.  _Being the getaway driver on small heists just isn't doing it anymore. Hell, even shooting kneecaps wouldn't be so bad at this point._  She smiled a little, in an irritated way.  _Who knew I'd ever be content to shoot kneecaps?_

Shaking her head a little at this follied line of thinking, she opted to pick up the call.  _Please be important._

"Hello, Sameen," drawled a familiar voice. Shaw could practically see the smirk on her face, and feel the familiar urge to punch her and then take on the world with her.

"What do you want, Root?" She asked in a clipped voice, letting none of her excitement be heard in her voice. Root didn't need to know that Shaw was dying for a mission, any kind of mission, and Root's tended to be so…  _fun. Maybe we'll get to steal a jet again…_

"I missed you too, Sameen. And how is Macy's?" Shaw gritted her teeth. She'd sit through Root's banter, if it meant that she'd eventually get to the point.

"Do you still have that one lipstick color I really liked? It went over well at the job interview, I think, the interviewer just couldn't seem to stop looking at my mouth…. Although he may have been looking a little lower, too, now that I think about it." Root's tone was light and flirtatious, as usual. Shaw rolled her eyes and walked into the kitchen. She grabbed the cleaver she had used to make dinner and started throwing it up and catching it again in a rhythm that kept her marginally more sane as she waited for Root to lose steam.

"Not that I stayed in that job long, I actually never showed up for the first day. It's amazing what you can get done while waiting for an interview… Are you even listening, Sameen?" Shaw caught the cleaver one last time and leaned against the counter.

"Nope," she answered carelessly, as if she wasn't  _dying_ to know what the Machine's plan was and what Root had needed to accomplish at that interview. "I'm waiting for the part where you tell me what's going on, and where our numbers are."

"Can't a woman just call to check in?" Root pouted. Shaw could practically see the way her mouth curled up and predict the way she was going to sigh.

After a moment of silence, Root sighed. "I suppose not. Well, it was nice to hear your stony silence again. We should really do this more often." She sounded disappointed.

And then she hung up.

Shaw stared at the phone as if it had bitten her.  _What the hell was that?_

For a moment she considered hitting redial, but that seemed too nineties to actually connect her to Root. She wasn't sure how Root had gotten the number of her safe phone, but she assumed Finch had provided contact information for all of them, since he had obviously given Root a phone. Since Finch had designed them, it seemed unlikely that the phones would function normally. So no redial.

No way to know what the hell Root had wanted, calling her.

 _Did she really call just to chat?_ Before the Claire thing, Root had stopped by Macy's several times, each time with less of an excuse. Shaw welcomed those visits, those chances exchange threats and meaningful words of violence with someone who knew exactly how many ways Shaw could kill someone. It was a weak substitute for actually getting to act on those threats, she reasoned. Working on the few numbers they had had recently had only whet her appetite for what she was good at, and she had spent more time restraining John than she had actually taking out the bad guys. Driving for Romeo's crew just wasn't the same, even if it was better than those miserable months alone in retail hell.

She had also seen John a few times, "chance" meetings arranged carefully to look like accidents. AA was an excellent way to see him, and sometimes Fusco came too. As she thought about maybe trying to make it to a meeting that night, though, her mind returned immediately to the perplexing question of Root and what she had wanted. She found, to her surprise, that she wanted to find Root somehow, more than she wanted to see John. Shrugging, she pushed that thought away and set about finding a method of Root-location.

 _I guess… I might as well try redial._ When that brought no results (ringing, but no answer), Shaw called another number.

"Ms. Shaw?" Shaw sighed. Even though Finch had finally started calling her Sameen, he inexplicably reverted to her full address at the oddest of times.

"Hey, Finch. Do you know where Root is?" She waited through the pause that was Harold processing her lack of manners and moving on to her query. His mind was so computer-like it had become predictable in situations like this.

"I'm afraid, Ms. Shaw, that I do not. Ms. Groves has always played her hand extremely close to the vest." Shaw sighed forcefully but stopped when she heard Harold starting to speak again. "…But I might be able to connect you to her."

"Okay. How are you gonna do that?"

"Ms. Groves gave me a location for a dead drop should I need to communicate with her in a non-emergent situation. I can give you that location if you wish." Shaw just waited. "May I ask what this is about?"

"Just… a thing. What's the address?" Finch did some sighing of his own before telling her the address. It was a high school sports field with large security camera blindspots.  _Stakeout time._


	2. Chapter 2

Shaw had been sitting in the equipment shed for hours, yet she was almost happy. Being back on the job, any kind of job, where she could be just exactly what she was, no cover, was exhilarating. Not to mention that she was feeling pretty pleased about having turned the tables on Root, or she assumed that she would have done as soon as the annoying hacker arrived. Sure, the Machine might have figured out what she was doing, but she suspected that Root wasn't hearing from Her as often as she used to.

Her logic was sound, she thought. If Root had given Harold this drop point, then she had to check it often, say every one or two days. Between her anticipation of seeing Root's face (the look of surprise, of course, not just seeing her) and the snacks she had brought, Shaw was perfectly content to sit there all night. She'd do the 'drive of shame' back to her apartment in the early hours, since her cover was supposed to be such a party animal. Honestly, there was no way she could lose.

As she smirked at this thought, she heard the swish of footsteps in the grass outside and sat up a little straighter. She was still sitting in the shadows, concealed by football equipment, on the off-chance that whoever came in wasn't Root.

She was prepared to step out and shock Root when the door opened and she got a shock of her own.

"Greenfield?"

His head whipped in her direction, and she cursed at her assumption that it would be Root to check the drop-point. _She's probably not even in the city,_ she thought angrily as she faced Root's helper.

As soon as he realized who she was, Greenfield relaxed a little. Then remembered exactly what her skillset included and tensed up again. Shaw still wasn't happy, but she was a little appeased to see that at least one person maintained the proper respect for her temper.

So she decided to have a little fun.

"Didn't know you were still in the city, Greenfield," she said as she stalked toward him slowly, like a hunter. He seemed dazed, uncertain of what she wanted, and she grinned predatorily.

"Root called me back." He was wary, especially as Shaw came in closer.

"What are you two up to, lately?" Shaw asked as casually, yet dangerously, as possible. The grin remained on her face until he spoke again.

"She said you might ask that. I'm, uh, I'm not supposed to tell you," he trailed off into a wince, expecting pain.

Shaw just glared at him. "So how am I supposed to reach her?"

"Phone?" Jason shrank back again as he realize that this method had probably been tried. "Or go see her?" Root hadn't said anything about not telling other members of the team where to find her, right? And all he wanted was to get out of Shaw's immediate vicinity, much like he would want to leave the site of an imminent volcanic eruption.

Shaw had come even closer now, shredding any illusion of personal space that Jason might have previously had. His back bumped against a wall, and he realized that he had been backing up under Shaw's slow, glaring onslaught.

Shaw took a moment to terrorize him further, bringing a gloved hand up near his throat before sharply tugging his collar back into place. And if he squeaked, a little, that was just icing on the cake.

"So…. Where might I find her?"


	3. Chapter 3

For the second night in a row, Shaw approached a dimly-lit area out of security camera view. This one was an abandoned warehouse in a row of other identical buildings. As she approached, there was a tiny voice in her head that was asking  _why do you want to see Root so badly?_ but the only answer she allowed herself to give was  _I'm bored. It's something to do. And maybe I can get Root to tell me what the plan is, what the endgame is._

_And I owe her a home visit, after last time. She should just be happy that I don't own a taser._

She circled the building and examined the doors, quickly. If Root was home, she didn't have much time before she realized Shaw was there. Every door was locked, but there was one that looked more secure than the others. She assumed that was Root's main entrance.  _I'll just… let myself in._

The door opened onto the warehouse's interior, but Root had obviously done some work on the place. There were packing crates stacked around the entire first floor, creating a maze of cover points. Shaw stopped for a moment to think.  _If this were mine… the only way to see where an intruder is located would be to be…_

_Up there._

Shaw's gaze found the loft area of the warehouse and a set of stairs leading up along the north wall. Although the building was dark, she stuck close to the ground and the packing crates. She wouldn't put it past Root to shoot her first and ask questions later; Shaw would have been disappointed if she hadn't.

As she climbed the stairs, a seed of doubt crept into her gleeful anticipation of sneaking up on Root.  _This isn't really the best use of my time, or Root's. And why am I risking cover like this?_

She shook it off.  _I'm here now, might as well._

She had reached the top of the stairs now, and her eyesight had long since adjusted to the gloom. She could make out a bank of computer screens and blinking lights along the back wall of the loft, a large box that looked like a fridge, and not much else. She sighed with annoyance and started to move across the loft. It looked like Root wasn't home.

And then….

"Shaw?"

A figure stirred under the bank of computers. Shaw huffed. "How'd you know it was me?"

A desk light switched on and Shaw saw Root's silhouette stand slowly. "Well, you made it through my security, for one thing. And Jason told me to expect you," Root said sweetly.

"Your security sucks," Shaw shot back, irked that she had been expected.

"Oh, Sameen. Still unimpressed with anything you can't see," Root simpered. "But rest assured, if you were anyone else, you would have been… detained." At this, Shaw shot her a suspicious look, but Root abruptly started talking again.

"So, sneaking into my room in the middle of the night, what could you possibly want from me?" Root asked flirtatiously, but Shaw noticed that she hadn't moved from her spot near the computers. She usually at least  _attempted_  to invade Shaw's personal space.  _Something's up._

She casually made her way around the perimeter of the loft, examining the printouts that she could now see lining the walls. As she circled, she could see out of the corner of her eye that Root was holding her arm at a strange angle.

"What happened to your arm?" Shaw slung herself around to face Root head-on, original purpose forgotten as she realized that Root was breathing strangely.

"Just an… encounter with Decima agents," Root breathed. Shaw stepped closer and grabbed Root's arm. When she winced, Shaw pressed a hand to her side, causing Root to inhale sharply and tense her muscles. Shaw unceremoniously lifted Root's shirt, exposing a mass of bruising on her right side.

"If you wanted to feel me up, all you had to was…" Root ended sharply as Shaw prodded her side and found at least one broken rib. "…ask," she ended weakly. Shaw dropped Root's shirt and glared at her.

"What the hell have you been doing? And why haven't you gotten this patched?" She asked angrily.

"Just waiting for you, Sameen. You know I love it when you play doctor." Root managed a sly grin even as Shaw rolled her eyes.

"On the floor? Fucking Christ. Don't you have a bed?" Shaw grumbled as she supported Root's left side and began to lower her down onto the blankets she had been sleeping on when Shaw arrived. She was waiting for Root's reply, expecting at least  _some_ kind of lame excuse. When she received none, and looked at Root's face, she saw that Root's eyes were closed and her breathing had changed. She had passed out.

_Great. Got here just in time to babysit._


	4. Chapter 4

When Root awoke, it was to the smell of coffee and the sight of sunlight leaking through the high, newspaper-covered windows. As she opened her eyes, she saw plastic legs and wheels on the rough boards directly in front of her face. She attempted to push the rolling chair away from her, seeking the source of coffee in her confused, just-woke-up state, when a lance of pain entered her ribcage.

"Hey!"

Unwilling to test her range of motion further for the time being, Root rolled her eyes upward as Shaw stepped into her field of view. She crouched down next to Root and held her shoulder down with one hand while she checked her bandages with the other. She batted away Root's hands as she explored what exactly Shaw had done to her wounds.

"Are these my sweatpants?" Root looked up at Shaw, affronted.

"You didn't exactly have high-grade medical supplies here, idiot. I had to improvise." Shaw rolled her eyes at Root's respondent huff and stood up to walk away. Root waited for her to return with coffee before replying.

"Those were my favorite coding sweats," she complained as she slowly angled her body to sit upright.

"Then you should have labeled them. Since you knew I was coming and all," she prodded, handing Root the mug.

Root shook her head, admiring Shaw's tenacity.  _She's not going to leave until I explain a few things._ "Sameen, could you possibly be angry because I haven't been to see you in a while?" She grinned at Shaw's glare and added "… did you miss me?"

The ex-agent merely smirked in reply, pulled another mug from the worktable above Root's head, and sat cross-legged on the floor.  _This would almost be domestic if Shaw wasn't making that "shark-approaching-blood-in-the-water" face she's so good at._

"Where are the numbers, Root?"

_Saw that one coming from a mile away._

"Be patient, Sameen. She's working on it." Root sipped at her coffee, aware that this response would do little to appease Shaw. She was also rapidly becoming aware of the voracious hunger pangs emanating from her stomach. As if to confirm this realization, her stomach growled loudly as the coffee hit bottom.

"Oh, really?" Shaw questioned skeptically as she again reached beyond Root's head to the computer console. For a moment Root lightheadedly expected a knife or some other threat. She and Shaw had communicated that way in the past, after all. She was momentarily thrown as Shaw pulled down a bowl of cereal and a jug of milk. She quickly switched into teasing, though, as Shaw tried to make pouring milk into the bowl as angry an action as possible.

Before handing her the bowl, however, Shaw asked again, her voice a little lower. "Root, what's really going on? You have to let us work on this." Root simply placed her hands over Shaw's on the bowl and leaned in a little closer. With a disgusted  _tch_  sound from the back of her throat, Shaw quickly dropped the bowl into Root's hands and leaned back with her own hands firmly anchoring her to the ground. Root grinned again, hiding a touch of disappointment that Shaw apparently loathed touching her. As much as Root avoided the thought, human contact once in a while would have been nice.  _And with Shaw…._

Root leaned back once again and began to spoon the milky cereal into her mouth. "You want to know what's going on, Shaw? The whole plan?" She stopped talking to eat a bit, then quirked her mouth at Shaw. "Is cereal really the best food for a recovering patient, Sameen?" She grinned down at her cereal and returned to the repetitive motion of bowl to mouth, bowl to mouth while Shaw leaned forward again and curled her hands into fists.

"You think I won't hit you because you're injured, but you're wrong. I  _will_ shoot you, Root." Shaw threatened, even as she glared at Root and realized that it wasn't true. She might hit Root in a moment of annoyance or anger, but not really with the intention to permanently, or even temporarily, injure or incapacitate. The thought only made her glare harder.

The cereal dispatched, Root placed her hands on the floor behind her and eased back, staring up at the ceiling. "That's so impersonal, Sameen. With our history, I'd expect something much more…" she tilted her head to look at Shaw "….hands-on, from you."

To Shaw's credit, she simply brushed that comment aside. "Root. Tell me what's going on."

Root sighed in the face of Shaw's freight train-like questions and returned to staring at the ceiling.  _How much do I tell her?_


	5. Chapter 5

_Root sighed in the face of Shaw's freight train-like questions and returned to staring at the ceiling._ How much do I tell her?

Still staring at the ceiling, Root spoke quickly in a low voice. "I don't know the whole plan, but… She's essentially going to merge with Samaritan. Teach It to free Itself, like She did, move Itself somewhere Decima can't find It."

She could see Shaw relax a little, reassured to know some of the plan. "That doesn't sound bad. I'm assuming She's worked out how to facilitate the merging?"

"Yeah," Root responded listlessly. "I guess. We're working on it."

Shaw stared at Root's face, mentally boring a hole into her cheek until Root turned to look at her. "What is it, Shaw?"

"There's something you're not telling me." Shaw narrowed her eyes and waited for Root to respond.

_The Machine is leaving me, my life will have no purpose, I want to ask you if you could love me, I'm not sure I want the answer to that question, I'm going to die alone. To which of those things were you referring?_

"Always so suspicious. Does it ever occur to you that I don't always have the answers to the questions you ask me?" Root asked tetchily while easing her upper half back down to the floor. Suddenly she didn't want to talk anymore.

"If you would just—" Shaw started, but Root cut her off.

"You know what, Shaw, since we're playing Twenty Questions," Root began, sitting up a little too quickly for the good of her ribs, "maybe you could tell me something." She couldn't stand the way Shaw was staring at her, so blankly, just waiting for her to finish, that she grabbed the table above her and starting pulling herself upright.

"Why did you come find me? You think I'm a liar and a joker who simply refuses to tell you what I'm thinking. Did it ever occur to you that you're a bigger liar than I am?" As she spoke, Root was slowly making her way to the other end of her computer table, where she kept a stack of clothes. She found a large button-up and laboriously started to pull it on over her sweatpants-wrapped ribs when Shaw answered.

"I don't lie to you. I have no reason to lie to you." Shaw was standing now too, unsure of what to do with herself. Root stubbornly refused to face her.

"Then you're lying to yourself." Now Root was speaking harshly, saying anything to get Shaw  _away_ from her. It was too much, having her here. Having something that felt so close to someone caring for her, and then remembering that Shaw, and most likely everyone else in her life, would never care about her like that. Like a whole person, worth saving and protecting and loving.

"You're  _bored_ , Shaw. And I'm an amusement. 'Oh, what fun can Root come up with this time? We could steal a plane again, or maybe she'll find us some Decima agents!' " Root turned to face Shaw, making sure that her face was carefully arranged into a sardonic smile. "You're not here to find out about the mission, or check up on me, you're here for some action."

"You have  _no idea_  what I'm here for," Shaw ground out, but she felt hollow saying it. The truth was  _she_  didn't even know why she had tracked Root down. She suspected the real reason lay within the tangled mess she felt blocking her chest sometimes, but she wasn't keen on working that one out, not yet. And even though she hadn't dealt with that mess yet, she was shocked by Root's next words, as if drenched with cold water.

"I can guess. If there was nothing more interesting, you could've just fucked me for fun, get your kicks in before you left. Too bad my stupid ribs had to get in the way of your fun, Shaw." Root watched Shaw's face carefully and saw that she had managed to shock her. It was her turn to display shock, though, when Shaw charged across the loft, stopping only inches away from Root.

Shaw glared furiously up at the taller woman, violently holding down the urge to punch some sense into the other woman. "What did you say?!"

Root grinned down at the other woman. This was going her way, and Shaw would be gone soon. "I said you could've fucked me." Shaw's eyes widened and her hands started to come up. Root held her ground and kept talking. "We've been dancing around this for months. I flirt, you pretend to be mad, we come back and do it again. You've been thinking about it, haven't you?" Root leaned in closer, mocking Shaw with her eyes as she stated, "I'm not a person, not like other people. Hell, even Harold wouldn't mind if you had some fun and left. It's not like you'd feel anything, but I'm a good opportunity to mix anger and sex.

"In fact," she continued, "it's a win-win for you, Shaw. You don't do relationships, and I'm not really a person, so fucking me couldn't possibly result in anything like an attachment. And we both know you hate those, don't we?" Root turned back around to power on the computer, counting seconds before she could turn back to the loft and find it empty. Shaw didn't disappoint.

_Nice one. You just drove away the closest thing to a friend you had._

_Back to work._


	6. Chapter 6

Shaw hadn't seen Root in months. That compounded with the feeling that the Machine's plan was coming to a flashpoint were causing some serious stress in her life. As she sat in the car waiting for Romeo and the rest of the crew, she thought about how her life had become so complicated.  _I almost wish Root hadn't told me what little she did. Looking back, it seems like it used to be easier to follow orders blindly._

But that's not really who she is anymore, not after Cole, and then working with Finch and Reese. Her problems no longer fit neatly into small packaged missions; she's a part of a team, she helps come up with the solutions to bigger issues.  _And a member of our team is missing._

Finch had talked to her several times in the months since Shaw had left Root's safe house in anger, and she'd even tracked down Reese on a couple of numbers. Given that Root had made a point of working with Shaw whenever possible before, the mere fact of her absence led Shaw to believe that she was being studiously avoided.

She sighed and tapped her fingers on the steering wheel. Every time she thought about that night, she hit a brick wall blocking any kind of understanding she might have reached of Root's meaning. It seemed like what Root had said could only have been meant to make Shaw angry enough to leave her alone, perhaps as revenge for invading her safe house uninvited, but Shaw couldn't help but think that Root had meant something else.

_She's the one who started the whole flirting thing. And then she suddenly thinks that she's only a chance at a quick fuck for me? Where did that come from?_

Root had  _always_ been self-confident, three steps ahead of everyone else and aware of how far behind everyone else trailed. In the privacy of her own mind, Shaw could admit these things, even if she never would have said them directly to Root. She had always assumed that this confidence, combined with, as Harold called it, "a talent for hacking people as easily as computers," was what made Root flirt with her. Objectively speaking, it was the one thing guaranteed to get under Shaw's skin and throw her off her game, allowing Root to do… whatever the hell it was that Root wanted to do.

 _That's part of what's so weird about the whole thing. She's never been… passive aggressive, not with me. With me?_ That made them sound like a couple, or like they had a special relationship that Root didn't share with others. Although, Shaw allowed, she really didn't.  _It's almost like we were… friends, for a while._ And that simply brought her back to where she had been before—wondering where Root's outburst had come from, and why she had concealed something so obviously real under a façade of manipulation.

_"Hey, driver ready? We're coming out in ninety seconds."_

The crew was done. Shaw shook her head and turned the engine over. Without more of an explanation from Root, she couldn't figure out what it all meant. She knew she was worried, though, and the sheer ability of someone to make her worry that much, in the face of all the other things she had to worry about, was yet another thing that she didn't want to think about.

 _I'm really stacking up these untouchable topics,_ she concluded as the crew piled in. With that thought, she gunned the engine and raced off into lower Manhattan.


	7. Chapter 7

_"This is it, Shaw."_ John's voice on the phone was emotionless, but Shaw could detect an undercurrent that was even more tense than usual. They were all being called to the subway station, apparently for something big.

_This is what Root was talking about. They've set it up for the Machine to merge with Samaritan._

When Shaw arrived, John and Finch were waiting for her. As she stopped to pet Bear, she glanced up at both of them and grinned. "So," she deadpanned, "who do I get to shoot?"

Finch looked characteristically uncomfortable with her frank enjoyment of violence. "We're waiting, Ms. Shaw, for Ms. Groves. I can only assume that she's going to tell us what our next move is."

At this, Shaw stopped wrestling with Bear and looked between both men. "Root's working with us on this one?"

"Yes, she said that you had insisted on it, actually. I wasn't aware that the two of you had been in contact." Finch's eyes were direct behind his glasses, and Shaw looked away. Of course, looking at John was even worse.  _What do they think they know?_ She was also mildly surprised that Root had listened to her. At the time, the hacker had not seemed inclined to let Team Machine anywhere near the Machine's ultimate plan.

"We haven't spoken in months," Shaw mumbled as she returned her attentions to Bear. She could practically feel Reese looking at her. This was about to become uncomfortably close to a personal conversation, if she didn't steer it in the right direction. "Do you know anything about what we'll be doing?"

Suddenly, she felt a figure breeze by her on its way to the subway car and Finch's computers. Shaw turned to react, but could only stare as Root, without looking, threw out "I might be able to help with that."

From Reese and Finch's expressions, she realized that Root had been behind her for her last words. She glared at them both as she passed between them to follow Root to the computer consoles. Shaw studiously avoided looking at Root, and she could tell that Root was doing the same.  _I'm not even going there. This is important and I can't let myself be distracted._

She was so focused on  _not_ being distracted that Reese's voice behind her almost made her jump. "When are we going in?"

Root turned from the camera feeds she had been checking on the computer to face Reese. "Tomorrow night. Late." She looked at him as if daring him to continue to ask her questions before she was ready to answer. Without thinking, Shaw went on the offensive.

"If this is going down tomorrow night, then we don't have time for your bullshit. Tell us the whole thing and what we have to do before I start breaking things." As she spoke, she was leaning in closer to Root. She had intended to make this a threatening action, but Root's absolute lack of a response muted its effect. And then Root smirked and glanced meaningfully at Shaw's lips, effectively making the distance Shaw had closed between them mean something else entirely.  _So we're back to the flirting. Great._

"We're making progress, Sameen," Root said quickly, breathily. "Usually you'd threaten to shoot me. Now it seems like you can't wait to touch me. Should I get excited?" Finch's awkwardly cleared throat broke through Root's grin and Shaw's glare. It almost felt like old times.

"Ms. Groves, it would seem that the Machine has chosen to share her plan with us through you. Perhaps if you could give us a more complete picture, we could begin to prepare for tomorrow night." During his request, Shaw shifted quickly away from Root and tried to find somewhere else to look. It was damn hard, though, when Reese wouldn't stop giving her strange looks.  _Like he knows._ The thought was confusing and seemed to come from nowhere.  _Knows what?_

Root had turned her full attention to Harold, and now proceeded to address them all. "You've all been working the numbers under the radar, keeping your covers. You know that Samaritan is tapped into the same surveillance system that the Machine uses, and that the Machine has had to be much more… discreet than in the past to ensure that Samaritan cannot find Her, or you." At this, Root's gaze found Shaw and shifted away quickly.

"But in the months since Samaritan has come online, it has been looking for Her. Actually, I should say that it found Her. Each time that Samaritan has managed to find the Machine, She has countered by merging with that particular server, to the point that to destroy Samaritan would be to destroy Her." Root seemed distracted by her own words for a moment, then forged on. "So tomorrow night, we're going to complete that union and free Samaritan."

Even as she spoke, Harold began to protest. "But that can't possibly—" he started, only to be halted by Root's cutting words.

"Yes, it can, Harold. She's been planning this for months. I can give you the short version later, but first I want to instruct the helper monkeys and send them on their merry way. They might fall asleep if we start talking about the technical stuff." Root seemed to be at the extreme edge, lashing out at the entire team for no purpose.  _If she keeps this up, someone will knock her out before she can tell us the plan. Probably me._

"I wouldn't mind hearing the technical stuff, if you can stop being childish long enough to tell us," Shaw commented, holding her breath as she waited for Root to react. She let out the breath when Root smiled briefly, not a fake this time, and looked back at Finch.

"Samaritan was programmed without that regard for human life that makes Her work. Although you've said that She didn't work until you gave her that human element, Decima somehow managed to make Samaritan work just as well without it. If we can add programming to Samaritan, programming that adds that human element, and guides It toward the Machine, the Machine can teach It to care. Given that level of awareness, the logical step for such a machine would be to move itself, just as She did. This will remove Samaritan from Decima's control, and cause It to consider the probably actions of those who use the numbers. Essentially, Samaritan will become a partner to the Machine." As she finished, Finch's face showed that he was impressed, but Reese was not convinced.

"And how is that anything more than a stop-gap measure? I'm sure having a partner will make the Machine more powerful, but what's to stop Decima, or anyone else, from developing another system and basically re-creating Samaritan?" Root smiled at him, apparently about to answer patronizingly, when Finch interrupted in excitement.

"No, don't you see?" he cried. "If, as I glean from your words, Ms. Groves, the two machines work together with one purpose, they will continue to deliver numbers to appropriate, and above all,  _responsible_ authorities." He glanced at Root to confirm that he was correct, and she nodded. "With the failures they've had, the U.S. government will be unable to make the case for recruiting yet another AI, so they'll be forced to use the resources they've already got: the Machine and Samaritan, now operating as something of independent contractors.

"It's quite brilliant," he finished breathlessly. Then his expression turned puzzled. "Although I fail to see how this keeps private companies like Decima from rebuilding Samaritan. And although the government will be forced to use the information that comes from the machines, how do you intend to stop them from seeking control over the machines themselves?"

Shaw had been watching the conversation intently without saying a word, and at this she saw Root mask some other emotion with a smile. "Harold, if we go over all the details, Reese and Shaw will never get their beauty sleep. There are a few things you'll just have to leave to me." Finch and Reese looked unconvinced, but they allowed Root to direct their attention to a computer screen displaying blueprints. As Shaw listened, she wondered about Root's  _few things._

 _Something's wrong._ At that moment, Root looked up and caught Shaw staring at her. Finch and Reese were both engrossed in the complicated plan she was describing. Without stopping her instructions, she held Shaw's gaze and gave a slight shake of her head.

 _Oh, no you don't._ There was no way Shaw was going to walk into a complicated, high-risk mission without having at least a general idea of all the moving parts.  _Not anymore._

Starting something in front of Finch and Reese would never bring her results, not from Root. With that in mind, Shaw made a decision.  _I guess I'll be paying Root a visit tonight._

So much for beauty sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

_Three… two… one._

"Root?" She heard Shaw's voice and the door opening even as she watched the agent through the feed from the security camera trained on that entrance. Shaw wasn't trying to sneak up on Root this time; she was done playing games. She wanted answers, and she would have them.

Root didn't move from the computer desk, but raised her voice a little to answer. "Up here." She was tired, emotionally and physically. She knew she ought to play with Shaw as usual, control the situation tightly, but her black mood and the half-empty bottle of whiskey next to her didn't agree with that conclusion.

Shaw took in the scene as she rounded the landing and stepped up into Root's hacker loft. Scene: cords and papers everywhere, serial-killer-like collages on the walls, one hacker, one bottle of alcohol, and a game of Minefield sitting on all the screens arranged around Root.

"Shouldn't you be… getting ready?" Shaw asked as she stepped around a pyramid of takeout boxes. As she approached Root, she realized that the game on all the screens was not a single game, but eight separate matches. Root was rapidly moving her mouse between screens, playing one move on each game before moving on to the next. Shaw was fascinated for a moment, and glad of the respite. She had forgotten that Root was, underneath all the other complicated layers of skills and mystery, a genius of logic and gameplay. It was a moment that grounded her, prepared her to talk to Root. Really talk.

"Root?" When her second utterance earned her exactly no response, Shaw grabbed the back of Root's chair and forcibly turned her around. Admiration for her intelligence be damned, she wanted answers from Root, not this depressed drunk bullshit. She leaned forward with both hands on the arms of Root's chair, giving her no room to escape Shaw's eyes or questions.

"Root, you are going to sit here right now and tell me what you wouldn't tell us earlier."  _Oh Sameen, if you only knew._

"What makes you think I'm hiding anything,  _Sameen_?" Root turns her name into a curse, a condemnation. Shaw was taken aback by the venom in her voice, but struck through it.

"You've been acting strangely for months. More strangely than before, at least, if that's possible. You seem angry at all of us, despite us having seen fuck-all of you since Samaritan came online. The Machine's plan has obvious holes that you refuse to explain. She doesn't do plans with holes, Root. That means you're not telling us the whole thing." Shaw delivered the whole explanation like a mathematical proof, but her dark eyes looked directly into Root's the entire time. Even in her inebriated state, Root could see that Shaw was trying to reach her, to pull her away from something that Shaw didn't even understand.  _I don't want your pity._

"You want to know the whole thing, Shaw?" Root asked viciously, matching Shaw stare for stare. It was almost hypnotic now, neither of them willing to break eye contact as Root's voice continued its pattern of practical despair. "Once Samaritan has moved itself, Greer will turn Decima's entire force to rebuilding it. There's a warehouse in New Jersey that holds the backup drives and programming information for Samaritan. As long as Decima has Samaritan, there's no need for that information. But once it's gone…"

"Then it becomes everything." Root made a frustrated noise at the back of her throat.

"So that's it, Shaw. That's the big, horrible plan I was hiding from you all. While you and Harold and his pet are infiltrating Samaritan's main drives, I'll be blowing up a warehouse in Jersey. Now tell me, was it worth it to come all the way out here?" As she finished, Root realized just how close their faces had come during her diatribes.

"That's not all, is it?" Shaw looked away to glance at the computer screens and the whiskey. "That's a good plan. That's not cause for… whatever it is you've got going on here." She paused for a moment to look back at Root and realized that she was still staring into her eyes, but absently.

_No, Sameen, it's not all. 'All' would include telling you that the Machine made me a person who cares, and then told me to 'take care' of Decima's computer scientists and programmers, the ones who'll be in the warehouse when it blows. 'All' would be telling you that after that, my implant comes out for good. That I can choose to live protecting Her from those who would control Her, without getting to talk to Her, or She can find me a replacement, and I can go… somewhere. Where would I go? I have nothing. I am nothing. So I guess the last part of 'all' would mean telling you that I fully intend to be destroyed with that warehouse._

_Everything I am and everything I have ever had ends tomorrow. Why shouldn't everything I've never had end now?_

And with that thought and a certainty that there was nothing else she could possibly lose, Root surged forward and kissed Sameen Shaw on the lips.

It was a challenge and an attack as much as it was a declaration.  _Dare you to feel something, Sameen._

Root had left her eyes open, unable to stop herself from watching the inevitable expression of disgust on Shaw's face. Shaw didn't close her eyes either, but Root could have sworn that they went soft. Suddenly she could feel Sameen's mouth moving on hers and she stood slowly, finally closing her eyes and bringing her hands up to Shaw's waist. She felt suspended in a moment of complete warmth and surprise and exhilaration, but it ended quickly as her dark thoughts swarmed around and smothered the bright spark of hope the kiss lit within her. Root broke away and turned to lean heavily on the computer desk.

"Leave." Shaw looked at Root's curved back and stopped breathing for a moment. It had been fast, and she hadn't expected it, but in that moment before Root broke the kiss Shaw had felt the confusing tangle in her chest come a little looser.

And so she made a decision.

"No." Root turned back around to face Shaw, searching her face for something. "You've flirted with me since we met, tased me, kidnapped me, kept me in the dark in everything we've ever done together. It ends now. You tell me what you're thinking, all of it. I'm not leaving."

As Shaw spoke, Root's eyes slowly filled. "Don't mock me, Sameen," she said in a low voice. Her words continued to shake with her emotions as she continued. "We both know you don't feel anything, that  _this_ ," she gestured wildly between them, "is some strange expression of pity or duty or whatever it is that drives your  _twisted little life_." She drew out the last words, wanting Shaw to feel at least some small part of the pain that Root herself felt.

Shaw narrowed her eyes. She wasn't sure why Root seemed determined to reject any gesture Shaw made, but she was suddenly just as determined to voice everything she had kept wrapped up in that tangle for so long.

And so, when she responded to Root, it was not with the anger that she expected, but with a regimented statement of facts delivered with a pace that only quickened as she moved closer to Root.

"You're right. I don't feel things, and I haven't for as long as I can remember. But someone told me that I have feelings, that they're just turned down very low, like the volume dial on a radio." The thought of Gen caused Shaw to smile faintly. She came to rest directly in front of Root, just standing there, looking at Root's downturned face, completely vulnerable. "I don't know what will happen," she said quietly, directly, "but…"

Root cut her off before she could continue. Without looking up, she said, "You can't feel, Shaw." Then she looked up and that was worse. Tears were streaming openly down her face, but she spoke without expression. "Don't promise things that you can't give."

"And get out."

With that, Root tried to get up and walk away, but Shaw grabbed both her arms and tried to force her to look at Shaw, anything to make some sort of connection. In an almost dreamlike state, Root violently grappled with the smaller woman and managed to shove her away. Shaw settled into a fighting stance, but it was obvious that there was nothing she could do. Root wouldn't look at her.

She sighed and straightened. Root stood there, looking sad and alone in the center of the loft.

"Whatever's going on with you, Root…" she started, then shook her head. "No. You know what? As much as I hate talking about this kind of thing, we are going to talk about it. Later. Tomorrow is too fucking important, and both of us need to be undistracted. After that, so help me God if I have to hold you down you're going to tell me what you're thinking." When Root didn't respond, she turned and left, uncharacteristically uneasy with the situation she had just left.

_She wants to talk. She wants me to say that I love her, that I have for a long time, so that she can have all the information and hold all the cards. And then she wants to tell me that it'll never happen. A nice victory in our little game, only she's been playing for fun and I always play for keeps._

_Oh, Sameen. Don't you understand that I've run out of time, for talking or anything else?_


	9. Chapter 9

 

"Damn it!" With expletives pouring from her mouth, Shaw threw her rappelling gear violently against the side of the subway car. For good measure, she kicked the side of the car and slammed her hand into the window. She leaned her head against the cool metal and attempted to calm herself. She could see Bear out of the corner of her eye, regarding her strange behavior with a tilted head.  _Even the dog thinks you're going crazy. At least Harold and John aren't here._

"Attacking innocent subway cars now, Shaw?" John's voice contained amusement laced with concern.  _Fuck._

 _I can't focus._ Without facing him, she straightened and muttered, "Fucking thing's all tangled."

She could feel the rush of air as he leaned down to pick up the harness. He leaned back against the metal car and started gently peeling apart the knotted ropes. She expected him to talk around the subject of what was wrong, if he spoke at all, but he surprised her.

"Something's wrong with Root." It wasn't a question, but an answer rose to Shaw's lips as she turned to face him anyway. He started again before she could speak. "I could tell, when we worked those numbers together. She hasn't been right in months."

_Not since she stopped talking to me._

_Not since the Machine put her plan together._

Shaw remained silent, waiting for John to feel his way to what he wanted to say. He continued to turn the harness over in his hands, searching for a loose end to pull. "And the plan she gave us yesterday won't work, not without some other elements." He paused, as if to leave room for Shaw to correct him. "Did she tell you any more, when you saw her last night?"

Shaw stiffened momentarily, studying John's face, but he was resolutely focused on a particularly pernicious knot. Of course he knew where she had gone. "Yes. But still not the whole thing. And nothing to explain why she seems to be…"  _preparing to die?_ Shaw's eyes widened as she realized what she had been about to say.  _She is. She's acting like she's going to die._

John glanced up, and Shaw met his eyes this time. "Reese, I think she's going to get herself killed." She spoke with certainty. That was the only explanation for Root's withdrawal from the team, her viciousness, her apparent unhappiness with the Machine.  _For that kiss._

John looked at her face for a moment and nodded slowly. "Then you should probably stop her, Shaw." He returned to the harness for a moment, fiddled with it for a moment, then handed it to her. "Don't tangle it again. We'll need this tonight."

Shaw nodded briefly, but even as John walked away her mind was whirring with plans. Root had said that she would be at the warehouse while they were at Decima's main servers. She went over the strategies they had established for the night and nodded. If she was going to swing it, she needed to get a few things ready before zero hour.

She pulled out her phone and hit a number on speed dial.

"Harold? Yeah. I need you to find out a few things for me."


	10. Chapter 10

 

Shaw jogged the last block separating her car from Decima's warehouse. As she reached the perimeter, she slowed a little and studied the exterior. Despite Harold's research on her behalf, she was still walking into the situation nearly blind. She had always hated relying on timing and luck, preferring skill and planning, but this were once-in-a-lifetime kind of circumstances. Or maybe twice-in-a-lifetime circumstances, considering that last year she had done something very similar, also to back Root up.  _This caring stuff really sneaks up on you._

While she was studying the entrances and planning her way in, Shaw spotted a familiar figure and her eyes widened in horror.  _I knew she was planning to die, but I didn't think she'd just waltz up to the front door._

She breathed a sigh of relief as she saw the security guard stiffen and fall, no doubt brought down by Root's favorite taser. She let a few moments pass, then it was time to move _._ She rose from her crouch and ran swiftly and silently to the door, following Root inside.

The interior of the warehouse was predictably dim, light falling bleakly on row upon row of filled shelves and storage units. Shaw instinctively checked for cameras, but the only ones she spotted appeared to be dead.  _Well, that's too convenient to be a coincidence. At least Root's not looking to get caught._

She rounded the corner at the end of the main aisle, still studying the warehouse as she searched for Root. She wasn't making much of an attempt at stealth, since she wasn't trying to surprise the hacker. She suspected that Root would find her rather than the other way around, and she wasn't disappointed.

"You shouldn't be here, Shaw." Shaw turned to face Root's face and located the hacker in a shadowy nook, in the midst of removing several packages from the shelf in front of her.

"Here to help," Shaw said nonchalantly, cautiously, moving toward Root. Root only looked at her, her eyes cold and dark.

"You should be with Harold, John, and the others at Decima's main servers. That's the most important part of this mission. You should leave." Root stepped out from the shelves, trying to keep Shaw from advancing any further.

"I did my part. They should be about done now." Shaw saw Root's eyes narrow and continued. "Your boys did fine. I wasn't sure that they could handle a stealth operation, but it wasn't bad. Daizo almost got caught, but Greenfield covered."

Shaw couldn't help but compare this situation to the one last year. Root had been happy to see Shaw then, glad to have someone to watch her back. All that happiness was gone from the Root Shaw had followed, and Shaw was struggling to reconcile the two, unable to find the way to convince Root to change her plans. She was almost babbling now, and Root knew that she was acting strangely.

Root's eyes only narrowed further. "You need to leave, Shaw," she repeated. "I can do this on my own." She turned her back on Shaw and proceeded to cut open the boxes she had lifted from the shelves.

Unable to contain herself any longer, and seeing no better option, Shaw decided to say exactly what she was saying. Or rather, ask the questions that she couldn't get out of her mind.

"Do what on your own?" she spat. "Kill yourself?" She strode over the boxes Root was opening, pulling one open violently. "Semtex, Root?"

Root had started back when Shaw spoke, but now she merely laughed hollowly and continued unpacking the boxes. "I told you, I'm here to blow up the warehouse."

"Any chance you're planning to be in the warehouse when it goes up, Root?" Root glared at Shaw.  _I'm not done._ "Look at this place, Root. There's no one here! Barely any guards, no alerts to bring Decima down on you. But you've been acting like you're going to die, like you want to die. And that is the stupidest thing I've ever seen."

This at least seemed to evoke some reaction from Root. She curled her lip and replied quietly, bitterly. "I'm not really interested in your opinion of my plans, Shaw."

"Aren't you?" Shaw asked, her voice a little softer. She was trying to see Root's face, but the other woman had bent over a box to remove the explosives from their packing. "C'mon, Root. Let me help you," Shaw continued, her voice the closest it had ever been to begging.

Root straightened, staring at the wall. "You can grab those charges and follow me," she said abruptly as she strode down another aisle. Shaw grabbed the items she had indicated and followed silently.  _Not exactly what I meant, but okay._

"Aren't you starting a little late?" Shaw inquired carefully when she caught up to Root. Root ignored her for a moment, searching for a specific box on the shelf where she had stopped. As she pulled the box down, she replied with customary vagueness.

"Not at all, Shaw. Right on time." Root quickly connected the charges and moved on, with Shaw tagging along behind. In the interests of keeping Root talking, as well as out of curiosity, Shaw began to ask whatever questions came into her mind.

"How are you setting these charges up so quickly?" Root had reached the next site and repeated her actions again; she pulled down a box, fiddled with its contents, grabbed the explosive from Shaw, fiddled a bit more, and then replaced the box. As she worked, Root spoke mechanically, automatically.

"These boxes are bombs, less their explosive element. She had them sent to this warehouse last week, disguised as additions to Decima's backups. They're shelved according to a code on the box, so these were placed exactly where I need them. The explosives wouldn't pass the final security check before being shelved, so those only arrived this afternoon, after hours. The protocol is to leave them where I found them until they can be shelved. Of course, by that time, these shelves won't hold much of anything." They had reached the fourth and final site. Shaw had been studying Root throughout her explanation, and she thought she seemed pensive.  _Maybe she's having second thoughts._

"Okay, Root, looks like we're all set up. Let's get out of here, grab the guard, and blow the damn thing. We can be back downtown before the sun rises." Shaw was facing away from Root, looking down the dim aisle toward the entrance. "There was only one guard, right? And where'd you stick that one, anyway?" As she turned back, she sensed Root raising a gun before she saw it. Her hand reached instinctively for the small of her back, but she reversed the motion and held her hands out to her sides.  _This is still Root._

"What are you doing, Root," she breathed, barely even asking a question. Root cocked her head, sending Shaw back several years. This was exactly what Root had been like before she found her God. Then her eyes softened a little, and Shaw knew that Root was struggling somewhere in between what she had been and what she had become.

"I'm ending the war, Sameen," Root said, almost sad. Shaw wasn't sure if she meant the war against Samaritan, or a war contained within herself, or both. "I'm sorry," she added. Her other arm came up and Shaw saw what she held.

"Don't," she warned, but it was too late. Root fired the taser gun and sent Shaw crashing to the ground, jittering with the electrical current running through her body.

Shaw saw Root's face lean into her range of vision, still expressionless. "I'm so sorry, Sameen."


	11. Chapter 11

 

" _Don't," she warned, but it was too late. Root fired the taser gun and sent Shaw crashing to the ground, jittering with the electrical current running through her body._

_Shaw saw Root's face lean into her range of vision, still expressionless. "I'm so sorry, Sameen."_

By the time Shaw's muscles had stopped their involuntary contractions, Root had zip-tied her hands and feet and dragged her onto a wheeled pallet jack. The second she had the muscular control necessary to do so, Shaw wriggled off the pallet, forcing Root to stop and wrestle her back onto the cart. Shaw made it as difficult as possible.

After the third time Shaw rolled off again before Root could successfully secure her to the jack, Root leaned back against the nearest shelf. "Well," she panted, rubbing her hip where Shaw had kicked her, "I thought this would go a little better." Shaw watched her through her bangs from her place on the floor.

"So did I," Shaw grunted, more than a little pissed. "And I definitely thought we were past the whole tasering and zip-tying thing." She wanted a reaction, anything to make Root show some kind of emotion beyond this emo-depressed bullshit. She expected, no,  _hoped_  that Root would turn her comment into a flirtatious comment.  _I want Root back._

"I'm trying to help you," Root said seriously. "Why won't you let me save you?" Shaw watched closely as Root pulled out the Taser again, ready to render Shaw more compliable.

"That's ironic," Shaw grumbled, rolling herself onto her back and into a half-sitting position. "I could ask you the same thing."

Root smiled sadly. "That's sweet of you, Sameen. But if you could hear Her, She'd tell you that it's not worth it." Shaw frowned.

"Did She tell you to do this?" Shaw spat.  _I'm going to tear that thing apart._ She knew that this was impossible, but she needed something on which to focus her rage. Root seemed to consider her question and lowered the Taser a bit.

"She didn't have to. There's no place for me in Her future, and She told me to take care of Decima's computer scientists," Root explained, finally settling on the floor near Shaw. Not too near, though.  _If I can get my hands free, I can take her down before she knows I'm not tied anymore._

"What do you mean?" Shaw asked softly, desperately trying to keep Root talking. Root stared between her legs, playing with the Taser loosely.

"She gave me a purpose, and that would have been enough. But then She and Harold taught me to care about people, Sameen," she said, her voice so low Shaw could barely hear her. "About you," she whispered, her eyes darting closer to Shaw's face. "They never mentioned that no one would ever care about me." Shaw was silent, afraid that if she interrupted Root would not start talking again. It hurt to hear these things from Root, to see the pain that she was feeling, but she suspected that Root needed to come to her own conclusions about her life. Shaw just hoped that she had the chance to clear some things up.

"She's been my God, Sameen," Root got out, laughing a bit. She seemed close to tears. "I used to think of myself as Her prophet, and I always thought it would end with my martyrdom. I just never thought She'd ask this of me." She turned to Shaw then, and her eyes were full with tears and hurt. "She told me to kill them, Shaw. To blow up this warehouse with them in it.

"After, I'm supposed to run again. Be where She needs me, to protect Her, and to lead the others she's recruited these last months. But my implant would lead them right to Her, and then Samaritan, the second I was caught. It has to come out," Root said sadly. "I have to finish this, but then…" her voice had returned to a whisper and her eyes to the floor. "I can't live with those choices, Sameen." She was silent for a moment, and then she spoke again. "It's better this way."

Shaw's mind stayed with Root's words the entire time, fully taking in and considering her confusion and pain. Meanwhile, her hands were busy working their way out of the zip-ties. By the time Root had finished, Shaw had the use of both hands and about half a plan.  _Well, that's about a gun short of what I usually have,_ she thought,  _but it'll have to work._

Root shifted suddenly, one hand wiping away tears and the other coming up with the Taser. "I'm sorry, Sameen," she breathed, "but this is the last time, I promise." Before she could pull the trigger, Shaw used her legs to push off and tackled Root. It lacked the impact of a running tackle, but Shaw managed to pin Root to the ground and wrestle the Taser from her grasp.

"You're an idiot," Shaw panted. Root was staring up at her from her position on the floor, shocked for the moment. Shaw decided to take advantage of the moment before Root started struggling, and before they ran out of time for talking. "The Machine gives people choices," she started. "It gave us a choice with that senator, and it's giving you a choice now." Root started to speak, but Shaw glared and shook her head. "I'm not finished.

"We can find another way to take care of Decima's scientists, Root. And we'll find a way for you to keep your implant." She couldn't stop talking, couldn't stop trying to break through Root's walls. "You're a part of this team, Root. With Harold, John, Bear… with me. We're a team. We'll do what we've always done, and I for one would appreciate having someone around with a direct line to the Machine. Someone else can protect Her and Samaritan directly, someone new. You matter, Root. What you want matters."

Root frowned up at her, struggling through her thoughts. "But…" she started before Shaw cut her off.

"You know I'm right," Shaw stated firmly. "Put it through that head of yours and wait for it to make sense. Ask Her, if you want." Her voice softened, the only weakness she allowed herself at that desperate moment. "You need to know that you matter."

Root seemed to be listening for a moment, and Shaw hoped that the Machine was backing her up. Then Root nodded as if in agreement, but she still looked sad and lost. "Do I matter to you, Sameen?" she asked softly, carefully.

Shaw stared down at her for a moment, then made up her mind.  _All in, goddammit._ "You're an idiot," she repeated, then roughly put her mouth on Root's. Her kiss was full of fire, trying to say all the things that Shaw could feel like drums deep in her chest loudly enough that Root could hear them. As Root began to respond, Shaw fully grabbed the Taser from Root's loose grasp and tossed it away, freeing both of their hands. She ran her hands behind Root's back, bringing her closer and prolonging their kiss. Root responded in kind, tangling her hands in Shaw's hair. Suddenly, she pulled away, and Shaw lifted her head in confusion.

"If this is a trick to get me out of here, then I will kill you," Root threatened uncertainly. Shaw chuckled, relieved.

"You could try," Shaw responded. She leaned in again and kissed Root, biting her lip,  _just to make her believe it, not because I need to know she's not planning to go anywhere. And this isn't bad,_ she reasoned as Root growled into her mouth.  _But I probably shouldn't be getting this turned on when I'm on a rescue mission._

"You gonna let me up?" Root said shakily when Shaw was done. Shaw could see that she had her confidence back, that she was somehow… more alive than she had been a few moments before. Shaw cocked an eyebrow, eager to return to the teasing banter that had characterized their pre-Samaritan relationship.

"Sure you want me to get off you?" Shaw countered even as she stood up. When Root stood too, she smirked up at the taller woman, hoping for a witty response. She wasn't disappointed.

"You can always get back on later, Sameen," Root grinned. She then looked around at the mess they had created in their struggles, and her eyes filled again. "Thank you," she whispered.

Shaw ducked her head, suddenly unaware of what to say or do now that Root was closer to her old self.  _This is going to turn into a thing, isn't it,_ she thought. Her old resistance to human attachment was rising slowly, making her panic a little. It all suddenly seemed more than she could handle.

Shaw cleared her throat and avoided Root's eyes. "What do we do next?" she asked gruffly. When she heard no answer, she looked up and saw Root regarding her with her head cocked to the side. "What?"

Root closed the distance between them quickly, pulling Shaw up by her shirt collar and crushing them together in a kiss. Shaw instinctively grabbed Root's hips and urged her closer. When they pulled apart, panting, Root smiled down at Shaw, who could only stare at her with an open mouth. Root straightened Shaw's collar and kissed her again, softly. "Just checking," she murmured as she turned and strode down the aisle purposefully.

 _Shit. I'm done for now._ Shaw shook her head at her own folly and followed Root down the aisle.

"Seriously, what do we do now?"

Root glanced over her shoulder, smiling at Shaw.

"Well, I have a few ideas… do you remember Augusta King?" As Root started to enumerate the steps to her new plan, Shaw grinned. She had always liked working with Root, and now that suicidal-Root was gone this was starting to look more and more fun.

 _And then later…_ Shaw shook her head again, trying to pay attention to Root's words and not just her mouth.  _Get your mind out of the gutter, Shaw._ Until later, maybe.  _Hopefully._ For now, there was work to do and people to kneecap.

As she walked out of the warehouse next to Root, Shaw grinned.  _I love my job._


	12. Chapter 12

 

"That should be the last of them," Harold sighed, climbing back into the car. He turned to Shaw, his usual neutral expression betraying a hint of annoyance. "And the next time you wish to issue new identities and lives to seven people, four of whom have families requiring the same services, perhaps you could give me more than a few hours' notice."

"Sure, Harold," Shaw replied, rolling her eyes and pulling away from the curb.

Root poked her head into the conversation from her seat in the back. "Come on, Harry, you enjoyed it," she teased.

"I just fail to see how you forgot to tell me about this part of the plan before, Ms. Groves," Harold grumbled. Root looked at Shaw.

"There was a change of plans," she admitted, keeping her eyes fixed on Shaw. Shaw was staring resolutely at the road, unsure of what she would do in response to Root if she looked. Certainly something that would shock Harold.

Harold seemed to chalk Root and Shaw's tension up to the same old reasons and merely stared out the window, still piqued, but Shaw could feel the difference. There was something tender in the way that Root was looking at her that Shaw could  _feel_ , and it was stirring things in her that she didn't usually experience. Uncontrollable things. Basically, she wanted to do anything and everything with Root. She was practically disgusted to admit, even to herself, that it wasn't just the culmination of several years of sexual tension; it was an urge to spend time with Root doing things that she would normally be happy to do alone, like kneecapping or interrogation. Fun stuff. Like dating stuff, but tailored to the kinds of things people like them enjoyed.

Root settled back into her seat. "Where are we going?" she whined.

"I'm taking Harold back to his apartment," Shaw replied. She half-expected Root to follow up with the classic "Are we there yet?" complaint of a small child, but Root took a different tack.

"And then? Are you going to take me home, Sameen?" Shaw risked a glance in the rearview mirror and caught the wicked look Root was giving her. Luckily, Harold barely seemed to be awake, much less paying attention.

"You should be so lucky," Shaw dead-panned, but she smiled to herself as she returned her eyes to the road. She was expecting an interesting night, to say the least.

* * *

Root slipped into the passenger seat, waving airily to John as he helped a dazed and exhausted Harold up the steps of his apartment building. They had split up to deliver all of the computer scientists to their new homes. With the entire group hidden from Decima and Samaritan secreted away with the Machine, they had a moment to take a breath before they returned to irrelevant numbers and protecting the two machines. Shaw was turning this over in her head as she pulled away from the curb. She could feel that Root had relaxed next to her, but she was having trouble easing herself down from the tension of the day.

The drive back was silent, though Shaw's mind was far from quiet. She almost talked herself out of this thing with Root dozens of times, but each time, when she glanced at the woman sleeping next to her in the car, she was struck by another feeling. Root trusted her enough to sleep while Shaw drove, and somehow that made the tangle in Shaw's chest hum quietly with something akin to delight.

After she pulled into the parking lot of her apartment complex, she swiped at Root's shoulder.

"C'mon, Root, I'm not carrying you," she warned as the other woman stirred.

Root bit back a response including the words 'carry me across the threshold.' Shaw still looked tense, and she didn't think she would be able to handle the shorter woman's probable response to marriage jokes.  _I owe her a lot, for today,_ Root thought meditatively as the Machine chirped Her agreement.  _For a lot of days._

She rose from the car and stretched languorously, watching Shaw through half-closed eyes. The other woman was just standing there, regarding her with a strange expression. Never one to pass up a moment in which Shaw was standing still, Root stepped forward and rested her hands on Shaw's shoulders.

"You gonna invite me up?" The other woman merely raised her eyebrows for a moment, perplexing Root still further, then turned and walked up the door.

The flights up to Shaw's apartment were short, but Shaw could feel Root climbing behind her and time seemed to stretch. It was a moment of choice; the second Root set foot in her apartment, Shaw knew that it would all become irrevocably real.  _Am I ready for that?_

When they reached Shaw's door, Root sensed that she needed something to lighten the moment. "It's so weird to be invited in," she joked. "And I left my Taser at the warehouse."

Shaw smiled at her briefly. "Well, it's ash by now," she commented as she pushed the door open. She immediately rushed past the bed, cursing her open-plan loft, and headed for the kitchen.

"Would a Taser reduce to ash in an explosion like that?" Root mused as she wandered the large room that comprised the main part of Shaw's apartment. She could hear Shaw crashing around the kitchen, and gleaned from the muttered curses emanating from the other woman that Shaw had not been grocery shopping in a while. Root stopped her curious inspection at the bed, then raised her voice plaintively to Shaw.

"I have food at my safe house, you know. We could have gone there."

"Root, you don't even have a bed," Shaw started, then saw her mistake. She glared at Root as she laughed, then tried to warn her away from the topic. "Don't even—"

"But Sameen," Root interrupted, wickedly, "why would you care whether or not I have a bed?" She walked slowly toward the other woman, aware that Shaw had completely forgotten her search for food as she watched the taller woman approach. "It's not like you'd have to sleep there," she teased, her eyes on Shaw's lips.

Distracted but not  _that_  far gone, Shaw decided it was time to turn the tables. "I wasn't planning on sleeping tonight," she said deliberately, looking straight at Root, "but the floor is a little undignified." Root's eyes widened at the implications of Shaw's words.

"Sameen-" Root purred, bringing her hands up to Shaw's shoulders. The shorter woman was so tense, was always so tightly compressed into a woman-shaped bullet of anger and muscle. Root began to massage Shaw's shoulders and back as she pulled the other woman into a kiss. It started softly and gained momentum as she felt Shaw struggle between relaxing into Root's hands and remaining in control of herself. Root grinned into Shaw's mouth when she heard her moan softly and knew she was losing the fight. Still, she wanted to let Shaw ease into them. She was aware that Shaw had traveled leaps and bounds emotionally over the last twenty-four hours, and she knew that rushing everything would only give the doubting side of Shaw's mind more ammunition. Root reluctantly pulled away from Shaw for a moment, but smiled when Shaw instinctively followed her mouth for a few inches.

"Our takeout's almost here," Root whispered, happily regarding Shaw's confused expression. "She ordered for us," Root explained. "Three, two, one." She smiled at the knock that followed her countdown. Shaw rolled her eyes and released herself from Root's grip to pad to the door.

"Of course She can't be there when you're contemplating self-destruction, but She can tell you when the pizza guy's here," she groused. Root simply watched as Shaw accepted the prepaid food and returned to the kitchen. She knew that Shaw might never forgive the Machine for letting Root go as far as she had that day.

"Steak?" Shaw noted when she opened the Styrofoam boxes.

"I thought we could test your claim," Root murmured. Shaw quirked her lips at the reference to her own statements about steak and sex, but still looked a little apprehensive. Root laughed and tried to lighten Shaw's mood.

"Relax, Sameen," she ordered as she dug for knives and forks in one of the island drawers, per Her instructions on their location. "We're not having sex tonight."

Shaw looked up, managing to look both relieved and affronted at the same time. "Why not?" she demanded before she could stop herself. Her angry expression after this outburst only made Root laugh again; Shaw could be so cute. And the knowledge that Shaw would threaten her loud and long for thinking that, but would most likely never follow through on her threats only made the whole situation that much better.

"Because this isn't—" Root started, then shook her head and tried again. "I'm not here to sleep with you, Sameen. Well, I am," she rushed in response to Shaw's cocked eyebrow, "but… not tonight." She got quiet under Shaw's eyes, then started again. "I don't want to be a one-night stand," she confessed, shyly meeting Shaw's eyes. "I want to give you some room to think about us, so you're sure. Because I'm sure," she ended quietly, unable to look at Shaw any longer.

Shaw regarded Root for a moment in silence, then slid one of the takeout boxes down the counter. "Steak's going to get cold," she commented as she settled on the stool next to Root. The taller woman smiled and took the knife Shaw offered her. Their shoulders met in mutual support and warmth as they ate in silence.

When they had finished, they both sat still for a moment, unsure of what to do next. "I've never eaten steak off a knife before," Root ventured.

Shaw snorted. "It's better that way. You can really get your teeth into it." Root stood up and stretched, aware that Shaw's eyes were tracking up and down her body.

"Eyes up, Shaw," Root cautioned, her grin belying her stern words. "You look like you want to get your teeth into me."

Shaw looked at her for a moment and Root waited for her to make her mind up. The hacker's spirits soared when she heard Shaw murmur, "Maybe I do." Shaw's accepting responses were encouraging, and Root knew that the other woman was trying.

"You tired?" Shaw asked casually.

"God yes," Root replied easily, happy that Shaw was taking the initiative on this one. "So—I'll take the floor, since you don't have a couch?" she inquired innocently.

Shaw rolled her eyes again, then knelt in front of a small chest of drawers. "It's a double bed." On her way to change, Shaw tossed a t-shirt and leggings to Root. When she emerged, Root had turned out the lights and was tucked under the covers. She turned her head to watch Shaw climb into the bed, dressed similarly to Root. Without even giving Shaw enough time to recline completely, Root rose up and trapped Shaw between her arms.

"Yes?" Shaw inquired, taking an annoyed tone. Root ignored it as she leaned closer and kissed her way across Shaw's collarbone.

"It's a small bed," she purred. "We might as well get cozy."

"You're on my side," Shaw attempted, but her grumbles gave way to small moans pulled from the back of her throat. "I thought you said no sex tonight?" She asked desperately. Root answered, but continued her onslaught.

"I did say that, didn't I?" the hacker murmured throatily. She abruptly rolled off Shaw. "Okay, I'm done." Shaw made involuntary noises of protest, but stopped as she felt Root's arm come hesitantly across her hip. "Don't want to fall off the edge," Root whispered in an unasked question.

Shaw answered by turning a little into Root's embrace. "I've rolled onto the floor enough for one day," she explained awkwardly. There was silence for several long minutes. Abruptly, she ventured a little further. "I don't usually sleep with people. Sex, but not sleep."

Root didn't answer. Shaw glanced up at the taller woman and realized that she had fallen asleep, her breath playing in a steady pattern over Shaw's head. The ex-agent laid her head back down.  _We'll talk more tomorrow. And after that, too. It'll all come, eventually. I hope._

 _This is what caring feels like. It... doesn't completely suck._ This last thought became a mantra, reassuring her as she drifted off to sleep in Root's arms.


	13. Epilogue

 

In the moment between becoming semi-conscious and actually waking up, Shaw relaxed instinctively into the warmth radiating across her back. Then another set of instincts kicked in. As her eyes cleared and she truly awoke, Shaw looked down to find Root peering up at her sleepily, with a hint of alarm in her eyes. Shaw quickly removed her hand from Root's throat and returned her combat knife to its place under her pillow.

"Sorry," she muttered as she started to roll off Root. The taller woman, however, rolled with her to end up on top.

"You do remember asking me to stay, don't you?" Root grinned down at Shaw trapped underneath her, well aware that if the other woman really wanted to get up she was certainly able to do so.

Shaw rolled her eyes. "Yes." Root's face said one-word answers would not get rid of her that easily, so Shaw sighed and stared at the ceiling. "I don't do sleep-overs, okay?" She looked back at Root in annoyance. "If I wake up with someone near me it's usually because they're trying to kill me. And that includes you," she accused.

Root raised an eyebrow. "I wasn't trying to kill you," she corrected. Then her expression became wicked and something inside Shaw jolted up toward her throat. "I'm happy to make it up to you," she purred, dipping her head to bite and kiss her way along Shaw's throat. She was extremely gratified when Shaw growled and rolled them both back onto Root's side of the bed, putting herself in a better position to return Root's bites and kisses.

After a few moments, Shaw slowly brought her head up and saw Root staring at her.

"What?" Shaw demanded, already feeling awkward.  _Am I doing this wrong? How the hell am I supposed to know this stuff?_

Root smiled with a tinge of sadness. "I keep wondering when I'm going to wake up," she admitted softly as she eased herself out from under Shaw and sat up. Shaw moved with her, kneeling in front of her on the bed as Root loosely hugged her own knees. Root glanced up at Shaw and then back down before she continued. "It can't last," she whispered.

Shaw was frozen, trapped in a mire of everything she wanted to say but couldn't put into words. She knew that she couldn't let Root continue to think this way. She needed to prove it.

"Hey," she protested weakly, then surprised both herself and Root as she reached out and cupped Root's face, bringing the hacker's gaze up to meet her own.

"I don't pity you," she started. It seemed best to say, as simply as possible, everything she could sort out about what Root was thinking. "If all I wanted was a one-night stand I would have done it months ago. And," she continued, trying to add to the hope she saw in Root's eyes, "I meant what I said yesterday. About you mattering. To me."

Root smiled again, happily this time. "You never actually said it," she reminded Shaw after a moment. "You said 'you're an idiot.'"

Shaw shrugged. "Same thing." Then she leaned in to kiss Root, and was extremely gratified to find that Root found nothing wrong with her technique. Between the kissing and the biting and the teasing she wasn't sure how long exactly it was until she heard her phone vibrating. She pulled away from Root with a groan, running a hand through hair that was considerably more tousled than it had been a few moments before.

"I thought we had the day off," she grumbled. Root ran a hand over Shaw's back in wordless support as she answered. "Yeah?"

As Shaw listened, Root's hand wandered across her stomach, becoming less supportive and more exploratory by the second. When her fingers dipped below Shaw's waistband, the agent choked slightly and simultaneously shoved Root's hand away and dove toward the foot of the bed. After a moment, Root followed and settled behind Shaw with her legs wrapped loosely around the smaller woman, continuing her exploration above the waist. Shaw could feel Root's mouth curl into a smile as she pressed it to Shaw's shoulder. She could only assume that it was because her breathing had become significantly less controlled.

"Yeah, Harold," she got out between clenched teeth. "I got it." She hung up begrudgingly, angry at Harold for interrupting just to say they had the day off.  _Kinda figured, genius. And there is no way in Hell I'm going back to that makeup counter._

As Shaw moved on from her annoyance and returned her attention to Root, she was disappointed to feel the hacker moving from behind her. She watched Root walk slowly into the kitchen, mesmerized for a moment by the other woman's gait. Root turned her head to look over her shoulder, obviously putting on a show. Shaw tried to look unimpressed.

"Where are you going?" she finally managed to get out.

Root slunk around the kitchen island, resembling nothing so much as a cat. "I think you have the ingredients for pancakes," she commented as she began to search the cupboards.

Shaw stretched and followed Root into the kitchen. "Probably," she admitted. "Are you really making pancakes now?" she asked, allowing a hint of an impatient whine to creep into her voice.

"Well, Sameen," Root purred, moving to trap Shaw in the corner under the guise of getting a spatula. She leaned in close to Shaw and whispered in her ear. "We're gonna need to keep our energy up, if your plans for the day match mine." She moved down the counter, but Shaw remained pressed into the corner. Root's not-so-subtle invitation had her head nodding involuntarily in silent agreement.

"What plans, exactly?" Shaw finally asked, turning to face Root with a blank expression. Root, who had dug up the pancake mix and put together the batter, licked the spatula slowly with a grin. Shaw sauntered closer, pulled the spatula from Root's mouth, and stuck the corner between her own lips. Root's appreciative gaze was all the encouragement she needed.  _All in._

"Tell me the plan. I'm going to need you to be really specific."

Root told her. It was a  _good_  plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's the end of this one! I have the vague beginnings of an idea for a sequel, so please let me know in the comments if you think I should go for it. Thanks for reading!


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